Poetry and Other Musings

A last chapter

This is one of the last chapters from a novel that's in the works.  Let me know what you think.

Other Poems

Poetry, Perhaps

Believe it or not, this is a companion piece to Gorges du Verdon.

Darlin'

Of Tides and Sighs

If you think...

Gorges du Verdon

by Pamela Adrian

"Here, let me have the camera. I want to take a picture," he said at the overlook. And she handed 
him the camera bag.

For two-plus hours they had wended their way up around and to the edge of Gorges du Verdon. It 
was breathtaking! For a man who was afraid of heights, he was handling the view below of the 
grey limestone well. While the Gorges did not possess the dramatic red and orange hues of the 
Grand Canyon and was not as vast, their rocky perch was no less spectacular. It was an ancient 
gorge, rubbed smooth by years of a river grinding away at the cliffs.

Rocks careened down the sides for no apparent reason and in their final descent so far down you 
could not hear the sound. Everywhere were signs in three languages warning not to throw stones, 
for they might hit unsuspecting rock climbers on the paths below. Guardrails were almost non-
existent, and no attempt was made to warn not to get too close to the edge.

She stood quite close to the edge now and could feel the tiny shards shifting below her feet. 
She'd already pulled him back when he got so far to the edge that it was unsafe, and now she 
felt the ground shift, or was it her imagination? 

She looked up into the cold sun, brushed the longish brown hair away from her cheeks because 
it tickled, smiled, and stepped off the edge.

Her body was relaxed as it fell. She was no longer afraid. All fear and anger had left her the night 
before when he had told her that he desired another. She just wanted the pain to stop.

And, so she fell as if in slow motion. The last thing she heard was the click of the shutter.

"Good," she thought, "He's caught this on film." And so she fell. Her body thrown from one boulder 
to another. She didn't even feel any pain. How could she? She'd suffered enough from his words. 
And she continued to tumble--no sound as she joined the fallen rocks at the bottom of the Gorges 
du Verdon.

------

"That damned alarm!" 

When she stretched out her hand to touch a button it only made the bleating louder.  Now the 
cat had chimed in asking, "Why aren't you up? Why aren't I fed?"

She quickly took a shower, then looked in the mirror and marveled that there were no bruises, 
no gash in her forehead.  But the bruises were, indeed, there.

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